Things that go bump in the night
by Nisa-chan666
Summary: When Orihime can't sleep and the shadows are darker than usual, there's one person she can count on to make everything okay again.


**Nisa-chan666:** Another shojo-ai fic here, this time from one of my favourite under-appreciated couples, TatsuHime! I feel kinda weird writing this stuff so long after getting into anime, but I suppose I just needed a push in the right direction (or just a push altogether).

**Disclaimer:** Tatsuki Arisawa and Orihime Inoue do not belong to me. They and Bleach belong to Tite Kubo.

**Warning:** Shojo-ai (girlxgirl love). No like, no read. Simple as that.

**Pairing:** TatsuHime.

**Summary:** When Orihime can't sleep and the shadows are darker than usual, there's one person she can count on to make everything okay again.

* * *

**Things that go bump in the night**

Settling down for the night, Tatsuki tucked the corners of the blanket beneath her to try and ward away the evening's chill.

As she was closing her eyes, she heard Orihime whisper, "You remembered to lock the window, right?"

"Yes Orihime, they're as locked as locked can be," she whispered back, a smile on her face.

At 16, she supposed that a little thing like the window being securely locked was a bit overly cautious of Orihime, especially considering that the redhead had the skill to take care of any intruder that was dumb enough to make his presence known. But then they both knew that it wasn't human intruders that she was afraid of. All starting three years before, after a sleepless night and a certain someone's imagination running away with her.

* * *

Orihime, a mere 13 years old, stood up from her futon, careful to not trip over Tatsuki in the dark; she was sound asleep, so it seemed unfair to wake her up simply because the redheaded girl was thirsty. Orihime had considered whether to turn the light on but decided against it; what started out as Tatsuki sitting up with a half-sleepy, half-_prepare_-_to_-_die_ face ended up as a cinematic race to where the van was supposed to be, the police spraying bullets across the street and the stolen cash gripped tightly to their chests. It was at this point that her increasingly dry throat protested, prompting the navigation in the dark. She managed to get to the kitchen in one piece, which was unusual. When Sora was alive, she had always managed to wake him up whenever she made that long arduous trek to the glorious liquid salvation of the tap; in the 6 months since his death, she had gotten better at padding softly through the darkened rooms of the house, preserving the solemn quiet that was beginning to feel normal. Stood at the kitchen sink, a glass in her hand, she didn't notice the breeze swirling round her ankles. Lifting the glass of water to her lips, she was about to take a sip when she heard something odd. She strained her ears, but heard nothing. She shrugged it off as her imagination. It was only when she felt something brush against her bare shin in the lightest of touches that she dropped her drink, the glass shattering on the plain wooden floor. It was then that she heard something skitter across the floor. She sank onto her haunches, terror gripping her. It was irrational, she knew that, but she had never liked the dark and the knowledge that there was something in the house that set her imagination running amok. It was probably something perfectly harmless, but all she could see in her head were images of long, matted fur, yellowing, blood-stained fangs and needle-sharp talons lazily scraping grooves into the floor. Unable to stop them, she felt a tiny sob escape her mouth.

Tatsuki woke with a start, the sound of breaking glass ejecting her violently from her usual dream-free sleep. She lifted her head, peering as far as her limited night-vision would let her. According to that at least, Orihime wasn't in bed anymore; a quick extension of her arm revealed that all that was left of her was a warm depression in the futon. Sitting up, her hand already reaching for her slippers, she wondered where the other girl could have gotten to. The thought had hardly been completed when she heard a timid sob in the direction of the kitchen, almost too quiet for her to catch. Standing up, she followed her ears until she felt the doorway to the kitchen, the door ajar. The sobs were more audible now and most definitely Orihime's. Tatsuki felt her chest constrict; she didn't know why it was, but she hated it when Orihime cried. She had seen Ichigo and her other friends cry before, but none of them affected her like Orihime did.

Making her way to the red-head, she crouched down and said, "What's wrong? Did you hurt yourself?"

"Tatsuki-chan? Is that you?"

She nodded, then realised the other girl probably couldn't see. "Yeah, I'm here."

"I think there's something in the room with me and I don't know what it is," the redhead sniffed, the panic rising in her voice.

_So that was why I heard something breaking. It must have startled her._

"Orihime, I'm going to turn the light on, okay?"

A small hand gripped her t-shirt.

"Don't leave me alone, Tatsuki."

Tatsuki felt her chest get tighter; without thinking, she had moved her head and placed a tiny kiss on Orihime's mouth, because she had no idea what to do otherwise.

"Trust me Orihime. I'm not going to let anything hurt you, okay?"

The hand didn't loosen.

"I'm just going over to turn the light on. If it's anything scary, they'll have to go through me first. That's what I'm here for after all," Tatsuki said, stroking the inside of the other girl's wrist.

She felt more than saw Orihime's head nod and the hand left her shirt. A quick journey to the opposite wall and the light was switched on. After letting her eyes adjust, she let herself simultaneously relax and prepare to kill the cat that had made itself quite at home on top of the fridge. Looking up, Orihime smiled weakly as she laid eyes on the quietly dignified little beast.

"I guess I made a fuss over nothing, huh?"

* * *

3 years later, with Orihime fast asleep, Tatsuki padded over to the kitchen, feet silent in the velvet dark. A glass of water clasped between her palms, she heard the plaintive mewls and scratches of a cat at the door. She grinned, shaking her head.

"Not tonight, kitty. This house is one that will be free of things that go bump in the night, as long as I'm around," she whispered.


End file.
